Malchik Gay
by Sylvester
Summary: Ginny's take on her Harry fixation over the years, set to the tune of T.A.T.U's "Malchik Gay"...hence the hard-to-pronounce title.


Malchik Gay  
  


rating: pg-13  
  


author's note: I've been itching to write this for a while....in Ginny's POV. WARNING!!!! CONTAINS SLASH!!!! If you are against this, then I highly suggest that you DON'T READ FURTHER! Thank you^_^   


I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST GAY PEOPLE! The "faerie" comment in this story is not meant to be derogatory, one of my best friends is bisexual, and hey, I love gay guys! They're so fun!   


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I own the lyrics to "Malchik Gay" by T.A.T.U.   
  


I was in love with the Boy Who Lived before I actually laid eyes on him. I was reading "Great Mysteries of the Modern Wizard World" for one of the essays Mum had assigned me two years before I was accepted to Hogwarts. There was a small photo of a baby, in the arms of his lovely parents, giggling like any normal infant should be allowed to do.   
  


Under it, a more recent photo was placed. Some stealthy wizard photographer had actually captured a picture of Harry Potter when he was at a muggle supermarket, with his horrid-looking aunt and cousin. The photo-Harry was smiling kindly out of his frame at me. The color of his eyes reminded me of an old pickled toad that Charlie kept in a jar to scare us younger siblings away. I never liked the frog, but I was very fascinated by it's vivid, verdant color.   
  


He might have been smiling at me, but I could tell he wasn't really happy. His eyes shone into his soul, in this one picture. It had a strong, lonely glow. Judging by his relatives' expressions when he looked at him, I had the impression that he wasn't a planned addition to their conservative family. I hoped he had friends. Inside, I knew that he was invisible to the muggle world, another underfed, unappreciated underdog.   
  


I think that's what made me feel so compassionate for him, I had immense respect and admiration for his miraculous defeat of the Dark Lord who had terrorized my world and my family, and an even larger, more overwhelming feeling of pity for his orphaned, love-starved state. I could not bear to have such a hero maltreated in such a manner. I went to my Mum for help.  
  


"Lookit his picture, Mummy. He doesn't look very happy on the inside. We should adopt him. He'd just be one more....and he could sleep in Charlie's old room! Can we go get him, please?" I had begged her one day after lessons, brandishing the "Mysteries" book with his picture under her nose. She smiled at me, and patted my head.  
  


"You're right about him being miserable, I'm sure. And I know that this unjust existence for him makes you itch all over, but there is nothing that your Dad or I can do for Harry Potter now. He goes to Hogwarts in a year, with Ron. He is a strong little boy, another few months and he will be safer than he's ever been, with people who will care and love him. You'll get to meet him in two years, yourself! Then you can be his friend."   
  


After that, I amused myself with fantasies of meeting him, of what I would say, what he would say, how his eyes would just light up when he realized that there were people in the world who didn't think he was scum. I only hoped that he wasn't broken by the time I got to Hogwarts myself, bursting through the Great Hall's doors and enveloping him in a warm embrace.   
  


I got to see him in person for the first time when my brothers boarded the school train five months later. My stomach groaned and curled into a knot, and my voice disappeared completely. I seemed to have misplaced my eyelids, as well, for all I could do was gawp, saucer-eyed, at this gangly little boy who had one of the roughest childhoods I had ever heard of. I could tell he was a good soul, because no matter how much dragon dung he had waded through, he still grinned beamingly at all the new people patting him on the back, or showing him any attention at all. He was extraordinary, all right. But I had been musing too long, and my opportunity to talk to him strode away as he jumped up into the train with my siblings. Well, maybe next year, I had thought with a defeated huff.   
  


Throughout my young Hogwarts career, I had avoided him because I was so shy...this was my hero, my idol. He had saved me twice from the Dark Lord, once when he was a baby, and then in my First Year when I was a silly git who couldn't suspect an evil, twisted diary of posession if it turned around and bit me on the bum...which it did, I might add. I loved him because not many else would, especially at that time when people were accusing him of being the Heir. It was me the whole time, and he never blamed me, never even suspected me! He took all the ridicule that should have been my burden, and when it was all over, he just smiled and asked if I was okay.. And I loved him for that, too.   
  


Then in the next year we all thought he was being stalked by Sirius Black, and I feared for his life. I kept an eye out on him as much as I could, but I certainly wasn't much help. And the whole time, the person who had it out for him was my brother's rat. None of us saw it coming except for Sirius.   
  


In my Third year, I was beginning to notice other boys besides my Harry. I also noticed that he had his eyes on a pretty Ravenclaw one year his senior. I fought down my jealously and decided to "shop around" for another boy to shower my affections on, because Harry's ignorance of me was quite painful. I noticed that Neville Longbottom was a sweet, bumbling boy that reminded me of myself in many ways. We were both very shy, and very overlooked. We became friends, and he asked me to the Yule Ball. I had been secretly hoping Harry would ask me, but those wishes were dashed, and I gave Neville my hearty "yes, of course."   
  


I cried the night Harry was abducted in the Triwizard Maze. I cried as he came back in a sudden zip, standing there, bleeding from his arm and his leg. He looked like the Living Dead, he looked broken. His eyes were dull, cloudy emeralds that were void of the life I had seen and swooned over. I vowed to myself that I would lay my life down at his feet in every circumstance, I owed it to him twice over. He went through so much for us, that I was, and still am, eternally loyal to him. I feared that empty look in his eyes much more than his flammable temper.   
  


Oh, yes, that temper. He shook the Black House with his shouts when he came to us during the next summer. I learned that he does not cope well with isolation. Fortunately, I had grown out of my blushing, babbling stage around him, and treated him more as a brother. It was hard for me at first, but I realized that he thought of me the same way. It broke my heart, and hoped to get over it one day soon. 

//Handsome   
Tender   
Soft   
Why do you look right through me   
thinking   
"No"   
I can't deny my feelings   
Growing strong   
I try to keep believing   
dreaming on\\ 

I got to see much more of Harry at school.. I joined Dumbledore's Army and trained under him for the inevitable war. I took his place on the quidditch team when he was expelled from it. He even took a few evenings to help me practice for that, too. I readily followed him into what we all knew (except for Harry, of course) was a trap laid by Voldemort. We fought hard, and all were injured. Harry lost Sirius. He had no blank, soul-less glaze in his look that night, but a acid green, broiling loathing. It was the same color that flashed under my eyelids as I blacked out as Tom Riddle possessed me in Second Year. 

I learned a lot from him that year. He went on a date with Cho on Valentine's Day. I cried myself to sleep. I was halted by a mental block, I couldn't get past him, and I hated him for it.   
  
//And every time I see you   
I crave more   
I wanna pull you closer   
closer   
closer   
closer   
but you leave me feeling frozen\\  
  
Oh, but in my Fifth year things came to a head. I was in the Common Room, when my good friend Colin Creevey practically assaulted me in his excitement. He had been on the quidditch field, taking pictures for his journalism club, when he accidentally snapped a photo of Harry in the embrace....of Dean Thomas. He was gay. That explained a lot, and also was a slap in the face. 

//Malchik gay   
Malchik gay   
I can be   
all you need   
Won't you please   
stay with me   
Malchik gay   
Malchik gay\\  
  


Even faced with this unfortunate fact, I still was head-over-heels. I followed him sometimes when I had a free period, and once or twice, I peeped on him and Dean snogging around a deserted corner. But one nerve-wracking time, I accidentally walked INTO them on my way to class.   
  


"Ginny......oh geez! Er, I uh.....we-" he was stuttering, not out of embarrassment, but out of guilt. I can tell these things. He knew that I loved him. He knew I was his loyal soldier for life. He knew that I had been caged by him since he saw me put my elbow in the butter dish that one eleven-year old morning. He could have told me, if he had done that, then I would not have been sobbing angrily in front of him and a blushing Dean. I wanted to protect him and draw him to me, to let him cry into my shoulder about all the injustices he'd faced in his sixteen years. But I guess I wasn't manly enough for him.  
  


"No, don't say anything. I gotta go. Sorry." I ran in the other direction, tears dripping from my eyes. 

  
//Apologies, might-have-been's   
Malchik gay   
Malchik gay   
can't erase what I feel   
Malchik gay, gay   
Malchik gay 

Malchik gay\\   


For a month I lied in bed, fuming at Fate. The one boy that I was willing to die for was a faerie. I could never have him. I knew this, but each night I let my mind create scenes where Harry came to me, begging me to have him, because he had been a fool. Oh, I wanted that so badly.  


//Choking   
Back emotion   
I try to keep on hoping   
for a way;   
a reason for us both to   
come in   
close   
I long for you to hold me   
like your boyfriend does \\  


Harry did come to me the next day, but to give me a terse apology for "deceiving you and not being open. I love you, Ginny. You're part of my family." Family....brotherly love, not husbandly love. I washed my hands of that romantic notion at that point. Why should I sulk and let my life revolve around this issue? I knew other nice boys who weren't gay. I should look into them. 

//and though my dream is   
slowly fading   
I wanna be the object   
object   
object   
object   
of your passion but it's hopeless\\  
  


Neville and I grew closer over the year....he told me about his parents and how he itched to hex Bellatrix Lestrange. I confided in him about my anger at Harry. We discussed magic, quidditch, the war, training, and everything on our minds. One morning he told me that he was in love with me, and I hysterically burst into relieving sobs. Here was a nice, wonderful boy with an immense, if yet untapped, talent, who was open, honest, and compatible with me. And he loved me back. All thoughts of Harry were gone as Neville lifted the blocade in my head and let me move on.   
  
//Malchik gay   
Malchik gay   
I can be   
all you need   
Won't you please   
stay with me   
Malchik gay   
Malchik gay   
Apologies, might-have-been's   
Malchik gay   
Malchik gay   
can't erase what I feel   
Malchik gay, gay   
Malchik gay\\   


I'm in my Seventh Year now, and Neville and I wear promise rings, a dream for after the war. He is apprenticing under Professor Sprout, he hopes to become the Herbology teacher after she retires in two years. We both suspect that the war will deter this. We both train with Professor Dumbledore and Snape privately to prepare. The battle will end at some point, and I know that I shall be involved, because Harry will be in the center. And even though I no longer in love with him, he is my brother, and I will still readily jump in front of a Killing Curse for him. He has always been my hero, and I have a feeling that he will triumph again, my fierce, pickled-toad-eyed Malchik gay. 


End file.
